Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Dario pushed the barn door shut with his boot and slid the barrel slide bolt into place.
The deputy’s muffled whimper carried through the cool morning air. He rolled his shoulders a couple of times, trying to chase off the irritation gnawing at him ever since everything had gone to hell.
This wasn’t supposed to be this complicated.
Get the drugs from the courier. Deliver the drugs to the buyer.
Get paid by Marco Garcia. Repeat. During the eight years he worked for the Garcia cartel, he’d always delivered, making Marco happy and rich.
Marco didn’t like it when things didn’t go so well, and surely the wrath of Marco Garcia would rain down on him if he didn’t resurrect this deal, or at the very least get a pound of flesh.
He crossed the dirt floor, the single light bulb swinging from a rafter, throwing his shadow long across the deputy tied to the metal folding chair. Deputy Donna Vanderwood. Forty-eight. Clean record. Mom and Dad living in a farmhouse just outside of the city. He’d checked.
She lifted her head when she sensed him close, lips split, eyes swollen.
“I already told you. I don’t know where they moved her. She’s under the radar. They don’t tell us that. You have my radio. You know this,” she rasped.
He had her radio, and it had been silent since the shootout.
He thought he’d struck gold when the young officer watching the house accidentally divulged the location of the cabin on the non-secure channel.
The Glidden Cabin. Sure, it took a while for him and Victor to figure out which cabin, but once Victor got out there and drove the winding road and discovered all the large non-cabin-like homes, that didn’t leave many remaining to research.
Using the county’s online geographic information system, they could eliminate some of the smaller homes and cabins from the list. Then, another simple drive-by of those that remained on the list revealed the location.
The other cabins had lights on and people outside enjoying campfires on the beach, or cars in the driveways.
But, this one little lonely cabin had the curtains pulled, with light shining dimly around the edges of the covered windows, and no cars in sight, as if hidden purposely.
When Victor noticed the hint of a brush guard poking out from around a small garage, he knew he was in the right place.
It was confirmed when he discovered the brush guard was connected to a county squad.
This was almost too easy. He and Victor made their plan, which included the perfect time to strike.
Early in the morning, while it was still dark.
No witnesses. Turns out the best-laid plans aren’t always that.
Now, the girl was gone. The drugs were still gone, and Victor was dead. His entire team was dead. Victor, Mateo, and Carlos.
Where did they move the target? It would just be a matter of time before he found her. But, he was running out of time.
Dario crouched, resting his forearms on his knees, and leaned closer to her. “Donna… dear. I keep hearing you say you don’t know where she is. And I keep not believing you.”
He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. She tried to tug away, but he dug his fingers deeper into her flushed skin. “Somebody knows where that girl and the drugs are, and you’re going to tell me who.”
Her breath hitched, but she held his stare. Brave little thing. Brave didn’t matter.
He let go and stood, pacing a tight, restless line. His phone buzzed. Again. He wasn’t a man who scared easily, but having Marco Garcia, the kingpin, calling, practically scared the life out of him.
“Your crew’s stunt at the safe house was noticed. The police are all over it now. And Victor? The one you sent inside?”
“Dead. Shot. Didn’t make it out.”
“You’ve lost three men on this,” Marco informed him, as if he didn’t know.
“And the drugs?” Dario asked.
“Forget the drugs,” Marco said. “It was a tiny load. Not worth the heat you’ve kicked up. Too many cops. Too much noise. We’re shutting this operation down until it cools.”
In all his years, he’d never known Marco to walk away from missing drugs and shut down a deal. This would not end well for him. He was as good as dead unless he resurrected this situation, even if that meant going against Marco. It was his only chance of survival.
“Kill the deputy. Dump her. Kill Milbourne. And walk away.”
“I’m close. She knows something—”
“It’s too late. You’re wasting time. End it.”
“Jonathan’s guarded in the hospital.”
“Figure it out.” And then the line went dead.
Dario swallowed hard. Killing Jonathan Milbourne in the hospital was suicide. But, then again, not doing it was suicide. For a moment, he considered running, but the Garcia reach was too much—too far.
Donna blinked at him, with the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut. Her gaze was dazed, and her face and shirt were covered in blood.
“Please,” she whispered. “I don’t know anything else.”
“Yeah, I know.”
She sagged in relief. Then burst into tears when he pulled his gun from his holster.
He stepped behind her.
“You should’ve given me something,” he muttered in exhaustion.
Her breath hitched again—fear this time, raw and real. “Wait—please—my parents—”
“Your parents will be fine, but you, dearie, you’re out of time.”
Slowly, he wrapped his finger around the trigger, still debating killing her as ordered or if he should still try to resurrect this drug deal.
Then something outside snapped. A twig? A footstep?
Instinctively, Dario placed his hand over Donna’s mouth, then froze. Listening.
Donna squirmed and murmured a prayer against his palm.
All was quiet. Still, he didn’t pull the trigger. Not yet.
After a few beats, Dario pulled his hand from Donna’s mouth, waved the gun in front of her, and then walked lightly toward a window close to the barn door.
The cloudy film on the glass made it difficult to see outside.
He peered harder. No movement. Had he imagined the noise?
It could have been an animal passing through, he supposed.
All clear, time to go take care of business.
Dario drove to the hospital. He hated hospitals—the smell of antiseptic.
Sick people everywhere. Most of them are better off dead.
That’s how Jonathan Milbourne will be in minutes.
Unless he gave up the location of the drugs, and the girl within the first few seconds.
No, that wasn’t true. Even if he gave the details Dario needed, he’d still kill him.
That’s how Marco wanted it. If he could retrieve the drugs and kill the girl, Marco might spare his life. It was worth a shot.
He’d go back and kill the deputy later if need be. Well, he’d kill her either way. But the woman’s prayer worked temporarily. He spared her for now. Just in case he still needed her.
Dario parked his dark SUV in the hospital parking lot, by the emergency entrance, and then glanced at the time on the dashboard. It was almost seven o’clock. Shift change. Would that be enough distraction to get in there unnoticed, find Milbourne, kill him, and get out?
He watched as a couple of women dressed in scrubs walked out of the building to their cars parked on the south side of the parking lot.
He moved his vehicle to that side and waited for an opportunity.
Unsure what the opportunity would be, he’d figured he’d know it when he saw it.
Once he cut the engine, he looked for cameras.
Surely even a small hospital like this had security.
If they caught his license plates, it wouldn’t matter since they’d been stolen.
Dario snagged his pistol with the silencer from the passenger seat and tucked it into his slim messenger bag. Then, he pulled his baseball cap low on his head.
He exited his vehicle and made his way to the hospital’s clinic entrance.
No security team in sight. As he made his way through the hall lined with glass windows on one side and reception desks on the other, he came to the lab.
The nurse in front of him darted into the lab waiting area and then used the badge clipped to her waistband to enter the secure door behind the desk.
Did that badge get her into all areas of the hospital or just the lab? He needed one of those.
It was quiet in the hospital. The few people who milled around paid no attention to him. Small town lax.
A short, middle-aged woman dressed in black slacks and high heels slowly walked toward him.
She could barely see over the stack of boxes she carried.
Her badge was pinched between her fingers.
Easy target. As he stepped past her, he tapped one box just enough that they all tumbled down.
She teetered on one of her spike heels, and he caught her arm to steady her.
“Whoa, sorry. You good?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you. I guess I should have made two trips,” she replied with a laugh.
He released her arm and bent over to pick up the boxes for her, then he restacked them in her outstretched arms while swiping her badge. He stuffed it into his pocket. It was almost too easy.
Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked away.
Now, to find Milbourne.
He wandered down a few halls, not needing the badge tucked in his pocket until he came to a double set of wooden doors with no windows.
The doors weren’t marked, so he had no clue what was beyond them.
Slight beeping noises and the stench of alcohol wafted in the air, strongest near the doors.
He’d bet it was the ICU or patient beds at the least. He turned down the hall opposite the doors but kept glancing over his shoulder, hoping someone would walk through them so he could see what lay beyond them.
About halfway down the hall, he came across a small waiting area with four chairs and a small table stationed between two of them. He sat and snagged a magazine from the table, opened it, and pretended to read as he watched the doors, which piqued his curiosity.
A guy wearing a tool belt and carrying a ladder came from the same direction he had come, walked past him a few steps, and then slipped through the small waiting area next to where he sat.
He wore a lightweight blue hoodie with the hospital logo.
The guy set his ladder up and then dug around in one of the large boxes lying on the floor.
The flooring in that area was ripped up, and the trim had been pulled from the walls.
A second maintenance guy carrying a toolbox walked past him and into the room.
This distraction—a remodeling job— explained why the waiting area chairs were in the hallway and was exactly what he needed to go unnoticed. Noisy and busy.
He returned his attention to the doors he’d been watching.
The noise in the small room behind him went silent, then he heard a door click shut.
While still seated, he leaned around the corner of the doorway to see what was taking place.
The room was empty, and nobody manned the reception window.
A blue, lightweight hoodie dangled over a rung of the ladder.
Dario reached around and snatched the hoodie, quickly rose to his feet, and slipped the garment on.
Then he grabbed the small toolbox lying on the floor next to the ladder to use as a prop.
Swiftly, he moved toward the double doors he’d been watching.
With his new uniform, he should go unnoticed.
He used the badge he’d snagged from the woman and keyed his way through the doors. Patient rooms. Perfect.
Once he passed the nurse’s station, he slowed his pace, moving his head from side to side, peeking in the rooms, looking for his target.
Most of the room doors were only partially open, making it difficult to see who was inside.
When he turned the corner, he glimpsed a uniformed police officer sitting on a chair next to a patient room door near the end of the hall.
It had to be Milbourne’s room. What would the chances be that two patients in this small hospital would require police protection?
The young officer’s attention focused on the phone in his hand. He scrolled and scrolled with this thumb. He looked bored.
After a while, the officer tilted his head up and looked from side to side, then he stood and began walking toward him.
Dario pulled his baseball cap down to conceal his face.
Where was this guy going? Why would he leave Milbourne unattended? Idiot.
The officer took only a few steps before he spun and headed back in the direction from which he had come. Just stretching his legs, Dario presumed.
“Just get this done,” Dario whispered to himself.
He moved down the hall.
“I got a call. The faucet was dripping. I need to look at it,” Dario informed the young officer as he fondled the badge in his hand, hoping the guy would notice he had it, but wouldn’t actually look at it to verify it belonged to him.
For good measure, he held the badge high, just below the hoodie’s logo.
“Nobody goes in,” the young officer said.
“Well, the patient made the call to get it fixed. The drip is keeping him from resting. I can wait here while you verify with him that he’s the one who called.”
The officer mulled that over for a couple of beats.
Dario slipped the badge into his pocket and shifted the toolbox from his right hand to his left to free his dominant hand to reach into his messenger bag.
“Give me a second,” the officer said as he unfastened his bright blue-eyed gaze from him.
The dumb young man played right into his hands and stepped into the room. Got to love small towns. People are so trusting. He’d spoken but two words before he slipped into the room behind him and shot him in the back.
The officer fell forward onto Milbourne’s bed.
Milbourne’s eyes popped open and went wide with recognition.
“Wait, please! I know where the drugs are!” Milbourne exclaimed.
Adrenaline rushed through Dario’s veins.
“Where?”
“My truck.”
“Your truck is in the sheriff’s impound.”
Hope flickered in Milbourne’s eyes as if telling him that getting the drugs out from under the watch of the local sheriff’s department was doable and would garner his life being spared.
Dario felt no guilt when he pulled the trigger, hitting Milbourne square in the forehead. Nor did he feel remorse about the officer lying on the floor. Killing them was the only way for him to save face with Marco.
Now there was only one thing left.
Find the girl and kill her.